Novel & Cerita Kitchen House Book

The male voice, that I assumed belonged to her oldest brother Robbie spoke with an air of frustration. We walked through the doorway of the mud room and into the kitchen where the two of them stood. Lyvie was cutting up vegetables as she stood behind the large marble topped island. The kitchen was even more extravagant than I could have imagined with dark grey marble countertops that sat on white cabinets. All of the appliances were dark stainless steel, and the island boasted a small sink and a glass cooktop. It had 4 barstools that sat at it, with a breakfast nook along the far wall that overlooked the front of the house. She really had outdone herself designing this house, and it was no s

Kira's POV I remained in my room after helping the kitchen, for fear that I would run into Asher again. There wasn't much to do except look through some books I had found in the trash by the kitchen. It was a cooking manual, however it seemed very old because the methods used in the book ran back to when technology hadn't been very developed. It was a good book, just old, and most people didn't want old things.

She had been the one to say he's good for him before Elijah had even known what she was talking about. She led them into the kitchen. The townhouse was the kind where the kitchen was the centre of the house, not tucked away in the back or relegated to the basement. It was a large room, with windows on two walls and a table in the middle that had clearly been there for decades, the wood worn smooth by years of use. The counters were marble, stained in places, and the appliances were not new but well-maintained, the kind you kept because they worked and because you liked them.

The house was breathtaking on the outside, but I had no idea that it was so well decorated on the inside. At the end of the hall was a large kitchen. It was large with two stainless steel stoves and huge refrigerator. There was a large pantry and more cabinets than I have ever seen in a kitchen. They are colonial style in an off white. I love cooking and I could only imagine all of the things I could cook and bake in here.

Drkov and Dalziel went to the company, and finally, there were only a few women left in the house. Because she had to take over the kitchen, Daisy asked the editor-in-chief to let her come to the company on Tuesday, today she needed to review and rearrange the kitchen. Mrs. Nenito gave her two books, one was the monthly income and expenditure of the kitchen, and the other was the menu. The Drkovs were a rich and luxurious house, so every meal and every day the dishes changed, almost nothing on the table was the same, every week it changed, and those were rare dishes.

"The man of the house eats the same seven meals on rotation. The chef is bored to tears. What is the food you'd like most in the world?" "Brownies," I blurt. "With whipped cream. Strawberries. A big glass of milk. Is that too much—" Pauline cuts me off with a laugh. "It's perfect. Please make yourself comfortable in the library and I'll be back shortly." "Thank you." With no choice but to walk into the dark, scary room off the hallway, I push open the tall, creaking door and search the wall for a light switch. When the frosted globes glow to life on the ceiling, my mouth can only hang open. It's huge. Shelves and shelves of books run the length of the walls. Several are open on a desk in the

Once she realized I wasn’t going to be put off course, she showed me where the cookbooks were. I poured through them, searching for something that could feed a lot of people but that I could make myself… maybe with a little help. The cook and other servants smiled as they continued their chores of the day. Though they weren’t paying direct attention to me, the kitchen felt alive in its own way, full of bustling energy, with servants coming in and out all the time. If Jake’s estate was the heart of the pack, then the kitchen was the heart of the estate. It was comforting being here around people that were working so hard, that were peaceful and content with their lives and their duties.

This was my first time and I was thankful, even if her smile was sad. “Olive Ramirez,” I answered and accepted her hand. “Come in, Mina!” I added. “Uh, no need.” She shook her head and withdrew her hand. She looked around, eyes wavering. She then smiled and bid goodbye. I sighed as I walked inside the house. I went to the kitchen to prepare food for dinner. I put Mina's dish in a small Pyrex. My kitchen was small. It was painted with white, as was the furniture. There were drawers surrounding the kitchen while there's an electric oven at one spot. There's also a small table and a chair where I sit to rest while cooking. There was also a four door refrigerator near the doorway.

She checked on me often, like she had silently assigned herself the role of making sure I didn’t feel lost in this huge house. And then there was the cook. I had started learning a few recipes from her. She had started teaching me small things in the kitchen—simple meals, plating, how to balance flavors properly, even how to not burn things while pretending I knew what I was doing. What started as a distraction was now turning into a hobby and now it felt like routine. The kitchen always smelled like butter, herbs, and fresh bread in the mornings. Somehow, it made the villa feel less like a mansion and more like a home.

But instead, his mouth softened into the faintest hint of something, approval, maybe, or recognition. “I’ll assist you,” he said simply. Relief washed through me. The kitchen surprised me. For all the house’s grandeur, the kitchen wasn’t some sprawling, industrial thing meant for a team of chefs. It was sleek, functional, but modest compared to the rest of the house. It looked lived-in. Real. The butler guided me through the pantry, his movements precise. “Something warm,” I murmured, almost to myself. “Comfort food.” He nodded, and soon enough, ingredients were on the counter: pasta, fresh tomatoes, garlic, herbs. A meal that was simple, human, but still carried the weight of care.